A Cyber Love Affair
by Jubilee Stone
Summary: Rewritten. Rated M for language and paranoia. Offline, Penelope Garcia is certainly spunky and one-of-a-kind. Online? It only gets better (or worse?). Peek into her personal blog, where she can say whatever she wants and learns that it only takes one new year, a few resolutions, laughter and vodka to change someone's life. (Eventual Morcia, or something like that.)
1. In Five Years Time

**A Cyber Love Affair**

Hello, friends!

I first wrote this story in 2011, five years ago. Since then, it's grown and flourished into something much bigger than me, becoming the most read, reviewed and favorited story I've ever posted.

I removed this story last year due to the fact that it was so poorly written. I've always wanted to rewrite it and am finally getting around to it. I hope you'll enjoy the changes I've made. Please remember, although it may not be evident at first, that this story is written from the perspective of Penelope Garcia.

As always, I don't own Criminal Minds.

Thank you so much.

* * *

 **Chapter One: In Five Years' Time**

Well, hello there. I always type that. "Well, hello there." It never fails. At the beginning of every year, when I haven't written anything on this blog the entire past year after making this whole, big, to-do about this being my year and that I'd post my progress and how I'd change my life around and all of that…

Do you ever realize you're getting old? Like really old? Maybe I'm not realizing it but then again I am. Or maybe the vodka is what's realizing it?

I'm drinking again. I know I said I'd stop that last year but, OK, it's New Year's Eve and I'm alone again. I said I wouldn't be alone this time this year when I was making my resolutions for last year, so, I guess I'm two for two.

I just want… Different, y'know. I'm a grown as woman. With a grown ass job. Doing grown ass things. Like getting drunk off my ass for the umpteenth time this week.

Speaking of this week, we had the whole week off. I'm not sure if that's because people weren't committing any dastardly deeds or if our liaison just wanted to give us a break. I don't know who the break is for, though. She's beautiful, she's going out tonight. Our boss is going home to his wife and son. Even my little G-man, the adorkable dude he is, found someone to hang with tonight.

Never mind that "someone" is one of his book clubs or something (and I think they're discussing Nostradamus' prophecies tonight? Which is so totally the cutest, most geeky thing I've heard him do to this date.)

Even _he's_ doing something. Yeah, him. The cute hunk at my job. Who totally flirts with me all of the time and it's not in my head. He does. But I noticed he's a cute hunk and so has everyone else. So he's out with one of those other bimbos.

And I really shouldn't call them bimbos, because that's mean. They're gorgeous girls. Even if they're the ones slobbing his knob instead of me.

I mean, how do you even get that many dates? Every single time they come home, he has someone lined up. I can barely even get my cat too tolerate my petting him for too long and he has a constant stream of bodies in his bed. All the time. ALL THE TIME. Like how even?

You know what I wish I could do? Have sex. Just once. Don't get me wrong, I've had sex before, tons of it but I want more. And I wish I could have sex with someone that I like and not just someone that was as drunk as me at the bar.

I wish I could tell you guys more about my job. Work makes it really hard to find someone to have sex with. Which is why I don't understand how he does it.

No one reads this blog, I know, but I swear I'm not an alcoholic and the fact that I seem to only post when I'm drunk off my ass is because I deserve to be drunk off my ass. Plus I only blog like three times a year, so lay off.

I kinda hate my job. Not really, but kinda. Which is funny, because I love it. Does that make sense? I'm cooped up in a tiny room all of the time which is fun I guess because no one can bother me but I have to look at really, really horrible things, and why do people hurt each other so much? Why can't everyone just be nice to each other? Is that so hard?

I think… I'm gonna go to bed now. Or drink s'more. There's a whole bottle of champagne in my kitchen. And Cîroc. Is there some rule against mixing your liquors? Or is it only hard liquors? I guess we'll find out tonight?

You know what I was gonna do? I have this list of New Year's Resolutions that I was gonna tell you guys about but screw it. I do that every year. And what's gonna change this year? Maybe nothing. Maybe something. But nothing is changing at 11:58 p.m. on Decemeber 31.

Oh, I guess I should turn on the TV now. Isn't the ball about to drop?

And it dropped.

And so will I.

Goodnight, internet. I'll see you later. Or maybe I'll see you later.

 _Posted by TechGoddess January 1st at 12:00 a.m._

* * *

 **Comments**

 _There are 0 comments._


	2. Chaos Theory

**A Cyber Love Affair**

Hello, friends!

This is the second chapter of CLA. I'm incredibly excited! I can't believe people actually remember this story, much less that a few of you are anticipating reading it! Also, I neglected to mention my posting schedule in the last chapter – I will post new chapters to CLA at least once a week. Probably more, but hopefully never less. That being said, there have been no new chapters for the last two weeks or so because I was on vacation! I was so excited to finally get this story out there that it slipped my mind that I probably shouldn't posted it until _after_ I got back.

Thank you so much.

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Chaos Theory**

Do you believe in the butterfly affect?

Apparently a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can cause a tornado in Texas, or something like that. Of course, the butterfly probably didn't _cause_ the tornado but it set off a chain of events that did. Like how me getting hired to this job led to me meeting my best friend which turned into having my love for him be unrequited leading me to spend every major holiday alone eventually ended up with me getting ridiculously drunk last night and deciding to do something to change my life.

So.

I signed up for the gym.

OK, don't roll your eyes at me, non-existent person who is probably not actually reading this blog right now. It's a big step. Every other year I decide I'm going to get in shape, all I get is another milkshake. But sometime last night/this morning, in between a vodka and champagne induced haze, I paid $50 to become a member at Gold Gym. My goal is not to be skinny. I like me. I would just like a healthier me, y'know? A healthier me that works out and eats something other than copious amounts of chocolate. Like, perhaps, copious amounts of chocolate covered strawberries.

Speaking of changing things, I entered this blog into that directory for resolution blogs. I figured it'd get me a few readers and you guys could help keep me on track. And by "you guys" I mean no one, because honestly, who's gonna read this?

I've also agreed to go out for drinks with the girls tonight. Since, y'know, they were too busy to have time for me before. I'm not jelly or anything. Alright, maybe I am.

He won't be there. I guess I should give him a name if I plan to tell you guys so much about him. My king? Hunka, hunka, burning love? Chocolate thunder? Cheddar bay biscuit? Dumpling? Apple pie? God, I'm so hungry.

It's hard to think of another name for him that isn't his, though. Names like James, Charles and Jack… Those all carry very, very negative connotations where I work. Maybe I'll just call him 'D'. That works. D. Or mine.

I just… GAHHHH. How many times can I say I want different before I actually pursue different? Where is my bad-ass fairy godmother to wave a magic wand and turn a mouse into a pumpkin or a prince or something like that? Can I just stop adulting and skip the really hard parts until I'm where I want to be?

I'm starting to sound like 19-year-old me again. Snap out of it, Pen. Writing this blog has sort of bummed me out. See the butterfly effect? This is what I get for being hired to this job. Or caught. Or born. Whatever.

I'm not hung over anymore but I'm starving. See, that's probably what's wrong with me. You're not you when you're hungry and all. I'm gonna go get a cinnamon roll.

 _Posted by TechGoddess January 1st at 3:00 p.m._

* * *

 **Comments**

You do know you're meant to write a blog post, not a novel, right? Plus, aren't you starting a diet?

 _Posted by elleohelle January 1st at 4:30 p.m._

Personally, I don't care if you get the guy or not. This seems like it could be VERY entertaining.

 _Posted by Codex January 1st at 5:00 p.m._

I've got the drinks if you've got the chips

 _Posted by ColorMeYou January 1st at 7:30 p.m._


	3. Hell on a Treadmill

**A Cyber Love Affair**

Hello, friends!

Do you ever write something and then notice the copious amounts of typos after the fact? That's me with the last two chapters. I'm going to be more careful about posting from now on but as I have no Beta (and it's actually pretty hard to find one) I hope that you will all be patient with me.

Thank you so much.

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Hell on a Treadmill**

I went to the gym yesterday and it's the first time I've been in a few years. I'm no stranger to exercise since we have to pass these Physical Evals every few years at my job (Which has never made sense to me because, _hello_ , I sit at a desk all day, every day. I'm really never in the field and then when I am I'm just camped out somewhere behind a different desk) but exercise is not something I do, y'know?

I don't think I've ever felt so many things pulling and contracting and twisting and turning inside of my body my entire life. It was not good. It was not good at all. I've never understood people who actually work out for fun. Or, God forbid, people that help other people work out for fun. Or for a living. Like why do you hate yourself?

Also, it's a little weird being in the gym as a bigger girl, I'm not gonna lie. While I know no one is looking at me, I feel like everyone is looking at me. Plus since I haven't been here in a while I spent all of my time reacquainting myself with the equipment. I started with some of the tamer stuff, like the treadmill and just sorta… Stayed there. For the entire two hours. After forty five minutes I could feel the glares of the group of soccer moms that had come in for Zumba and stayed for whatever reason glaring holes into the back of my head.

Don't scoff at me, OK. The treadmill is hard work.

D laughed at me when I told him. Well, maybe not a full out guffaw but definitely more of a chuckle. In his defense, so did everyone else but they were also pretty supportive. He even invited me to come work out with him next time. I'm pretty sure he works out shirtless. I'm also pretty sure that if I accept his offer I'll get less working out done and more ogling of his abs done. His abs. They're beautiful. He's beautiful. I kinda stammered through an answer so he's given me the day to think about it. Speaking of today, it's actually been a pretty slow day. Mostly just time to catch up on paperwork and one of my favorite coworkers (I call him my little G-Man) trying to make me feel better about dying with some over complicated explanation of how the body releases endorphins when we exercise.

Also, I can't remember which one of you snarky finger munches commented on the whole cinnamon-roll-diet thing but I forgot, OK! It was a long day. So would wine be a better choice? Because that's what I'm about to pour a glass of.

 _Posted by TechGoddess January 4th at 8:00 p.m._

* * *

 **Comments**

Snarky finger munches, haven't heard that one before. You sound like a doll. Also, wine is not a better choice. Are you sure you aren't alcoholic? First drunk posting then drinks with your friends now this… Hm.

 _Posted by elleohelle January 4th at 9:30 p.m._

It's true. Endorphin releases are oft considered opioids for the masses due to their nearly-intoxicating effect.

 _Posted by Codex January 5th at 3:00 p.m._

So you went from a drunkard to a druggie? Nice.

 _Posted by elleohelle January 5th at 11:00 p.m._


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